


Victory

by Skittery



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/pseuds/Skittery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Give me a sign" Race/Davey</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory

“Slow down!” Davey called, panting slightly as he ran to catch up with Race while still trying to maintain enough composure to avoid attracting unwanted attention. 

“You’re going too fast!” he repeated, stumbling over a tree root onto the poorly paved walkway. Race, who knew the terrain better here, was practically dancing towards the boy standing outside the racetrack who waved them in through the gates with a solemn nod. 

“Maybe yer goin’ too slow,” Race replied roguishly as Davey finally caught up. He latched on lightly to Davey’s sleeve, pulling him in the direction of a crowded set of booths. “Now c’mon, we gotta get our bets in ‘fore the next one starts.”

Race let go of Davey’s sleeve and took off again, and this time Davey kept up at his heels, although he struggled a great deal more with the pressing crowds; he had to bite back the impulse to apologize to every person he bumped into as he fought forward. Who knew this many people turned up for a horse race? 

“I thought you said we’d do something fun,” he said, breathing heavily, when they finally stopped in front of one of the betting booths. Race pulled some hard earned quarters from his pockets and lay them down.

“This is fun!” Race turned to look back at Davey and gestured to a list of the racers, “Which one d’yah wanna pick?”

Davey glanced at the list of horses with a deepening sense of misgiving, then shrugged and shook his head as if to clear it. “I thought you meant somethin’ more like...like a picnic or something!”

Race looked at him with a mixture of amusement and incredulity, then turned back to the bookmaker. “Yer right let’s go with Vict’ry.”

Davey was quiet as they walked toward and up the crowded wooden stands, moving away from the more genteel crowd and up to the bawdier one. Race muttered something about a picnic, then said louder, in an attempt to reassure, “This’ll be way better. Jus’ watch the horses.”

They found a spot and settled in, staring down at the semi-distant track. The sun was shining hot on their backs; finally the starter pistol sounded and tiny figures began to run in circles below them. 

“The thing is,” Davey exclaimed, frustrated, as Race peered intently down at the horses’ progress, “We came all the way here and why?! I thought when you wanted to...I figured we’d do somethin’ more...the two of us and I don’t even know if this is...” His words were speeding up and colliding nervously. Race looked over at him, bemused. “If this is...a...a...” Davey looked as though he were fighting an intense inner struggle, then finally burst out, “Give me a sign!”  


Race grinned and wrapped an arm around Davey’s shoulders in one swift, casual motion. “You think too much,” he said coyly, giving Davey’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Just watch the horses.”


End file.
